Lily Peters: A Tale of Commonwealth Retribution
by The 7th Element
Summary: In two minutes, her life was taken from her: her parents, her farm, even her dog, were taken by Raiders. Now, it is up to her to try and restore the shambles of her former life. Doing this, though, will require a little help from a famous face in the Commonwealth... Cover image will be Samuel L. Jackson until I can think of something better :P
1. A Little Farm in the Commonwealth

I knelt down in the wet, stinking mud, bent over in a sea of gourd vines. It was here on my family's property that I engaged in the ever-so-exciting task of pulling weeds from the earth. My calloused hands and dirt-worn fingernails were accustomed to the task, but alas, it was not made any more tedious as sweat slopped from my forehead, permeating my overalls.

I habitually wiped sweat drops from my eyes before resuming my chore. For nineteen years now, this was the life I had known: get up early, feed the brahmin, tend to the crops, eat lunch, back to the crops until sundown. Rinse and repeat. Once a month, we would take a family trip to Bunker Hill and sell the fruit of our labors at the market, which could be fun when we weren't being hassled by the raiders that frequented the place. Aside from that however, this life was inordinately dull. When I was a little girl, I used to dream of running away and starting my own life, away from the stench of brahmin manure and the eternal revolving of our lives around our crops. But, as I matured, and my parents steadily grew older, I realized that there was virtually no hope of this transpiring. My monotonous existence was simply the norm in this world after the bombs.

Sometimes, I wondered what caused humanity to stagnate so much two centuries after the apocalypse. On our ventures to Bunker Hill, I always took notice of the crumbling buildings in the distance that reached into the clouds, now populated by a litany of baddies that my father often mused about. There were also food items like Nuka-Cola, Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, Cram, or my personal favorite Sugar Bombs, which still managed to retain their flavor after all this time. If humans before the war could manage to make a box of Sugar Bombs taste so ecstatic over two centuries after their initial production, surely we could have accomplished anything.

It was not my place to speculate though. I had not known much outside of this place, tucked away in the eastern Commonwealth. My mom had given birth to me after a series of unfortunate stillbirths. They raised me with all the love and affection that was deserving of their only surviving child, feelings which were quite void in the Commonwealth as a whole. When I was sick, they would take care of me; when I was sad, they would hug me until I felt better; when I was hungry, they would cook up an orgasmic batch of vegetable soup. Heck, my mom even taught me how to read, a highly sought-after skill in the Wasteland. Both of my parents provided for me, so long as I provided my fair share of the farm work. When I was younger, I didn't quite realize all the sacrifices they had to make just to keep me healthy and radiation-free, which caused me to act upon my selfish impulses. Now though, I knew: this was my home. My only home.

I watched for a moment as my dad labored over the fence that encompassed our tiny plot of land. A ghoul attack a few days ago had left it in desperate need of repair (it never failed to surprise me just how much damage a few ferals could produce). Luckily, my dad possessed enough skill with hammer and nail that fixing the fence was a cakewalk to him.

I caught his eye, and he glanced up from his craft. His red, weather-worn features shone like opal in the midday light, and the sunlight on his face glimmered more as he smiled, nodding his head to acknowledge my presence. I grinned and nodded back before resuming my task. Thankfully though, most of the weeds were already gone. All I had to do was to exterminate a few remaining stragglers, and to smooth out the dirt around the plants before I could stand up, wiping a smear of soil from my breeches.

Thankful to be able to stand again, I headed towards the house, the same sturdy wooden shack where I had been born.

"…Hey, Lily," my father called across the garden.

I turned around, the wind sweeping my hair in my face as I looked back at my father. He stood, visibly tired from his work. He supported himself on a fence post as he glanced over at the garden plot I had just left.

"…Good job, baby girl. I'm impressed with how good that field looks."

I laughed at his sentiment, seeing it as rather strange.

"You didn't say that last time I did it."

"Well uh, I forget sometimes to show my appreciation for ya'," he said honestly as he wiped sweat with his newsboy cap. "So thank you, Lily."

"You're, uh, welcome, dad," I played along. "…Anything else you need me to do?"

"Nah…But I believe your mom's canning vegetable soup. You might, uh, convince her to cook some for dinner tonight."

"Alright. Good idea, pop."

I gave him a thumbs-up before I sojourned back into the house, the tang of vegetable soup already present on my eager taste buds. Mom's vegetable soup was always out of this world, so it was no wonder that she canned the stuff and sold it at the market.

I found my mom on the living room couch, completely absorbed in her task. Her unnaturally-vibrant orange curls matched mine, as did the spray of freckles upon her pale cheeks. For some reason or another, spending hours in the Sun and heat did not manage to tan our skin, as it did my dad's. Instead, me and her simply turned into human tomatoes that peeled skin endlessly after prolonged exposure.

I cleared my throat to get her attention, which snapped her out of her work-induced trance.

"Oh. Sorry honey, didn't notice you there…You cleaned out the garden?"

"Yep," I affirmed as I wiped sweat from my face with a towel. "You need any help on your end?"

"Well…I mean, if you want to…"

"Not like I have much else to do," I sighed as I took a seat beside her. "Besides, I uh…I like canning stuff."

"Is that so?" she chuckled. "You told me you hated all forms of farmwork."

"Well I do, but canning's not farmwork. It's done indoors, where you can sit and make casual small talk. Like so."

I promptly took a seat next to my mom and began ladling the soup into each glass jar, poking out air bubbles and forming an airtight seal in each container.

We continued silently for a few moments, allowing the stillness of our creaky wooden shack to absorb us in our task. The wind came in hot, intermittent gusts through the gaps in the wall, swirling about our humble abode.

I sighed with heavy exhaustion. Unless I were to take a dip in a highly-irradiated creek, there was simply no way to escape the pervasive heat and sweaty miserableness of summer.

"…So what did you think of that Arnold boy, from Nordhagen Beach?"

My mom asked this in earnest, smiling with innocently-rounded cheeks at me. I knew the routine, yet I was reluctant to spout the answer I always gave.

"Yeah, he was okay…"

I kept my eyes on the can in front of me, looking wholly uninterested. Seeing this, my mom decided to take a different approach. She placed a hand gently on top of mine.

"Lily, you know I just want what's best for you, right?"

"…I know, mom," I sighed. "But you really don't have to be going to all this trouble. I'll just…find someone when I'm ready."

"Sweetheart, I want you to find the perfect man for you. I was seventeen when I married your dad, and we met through my mother."

"No mom, it's not you, it's me. I'm just…not that into romance yet is all"

"You just haven't met the right person yet," she said as she tickled my cheek. "Don't worry, honey. We just have to keep trying."

All that I could do was silently nod at my mother's warm, creased face as she looked at me so eagerly.

For the past couple years, she had been trying to hook me up with a husband, scouring the Commonwealth and her friends at the Bunker Hill market to find for me a suitable romantic partner. However, I was always hampered in this process by my seeming inability to be attracted to the guys I met. As far as personal relationships went, I was one who had relatively few, with the exception of my parents. Growing up on a desolate farm in the Commonwealth didn't afford many opportunities to make friends.

At that moment, the only other entity that I could call a friend padded into the room. Bessie, our loyal guard dog, yawned and licked her lips before plopping down beside my feet. I gave the old girl a pat on her head, causing her to pant affectionately.

"My, Bessie, you've gained weight," laughed my mom.

"Maybe if Lily would stop sneakin' her Sugar Bombs, she'd be lighter."

My dad said this through the wall before opening the door and taking refuge from the blistering Sun.

"Because yeah, I see you doin' that," he joked at me.

"Hey, I can't help if she begs for them so cutely," I retorted, gently smushing Bessie's jowls into a smile.

"Well I know someone else who knows how to beg."

My mom looked mischievously at my dad, who tried to act dumb.

"You sent Lil in here to get your hands on some vegetable soup, didn't you?"

"What…espionage?" he laughed nervously. "C'mon, hon, that's not my style."

"Hmm," my mom squinted at him. "You two do realize we're running low on caps? We're gonna have to start charging more for these cans to cut even."

"Maybe if Cutty could cut us some slack," I sighed as I petted Bessie's belly. "Or, y'know, we just pay her protection fee in cans of soup."

"Maybe that'll calm 'em down," suggested my dad.

"Interesting idea…" quipped my mom. "Tell you what, guys, let's test that hypothesis over dinner."

My mom dutifully withdrew a can of soup and rose from the couch, venturing over to the stove. My dad and I rightfully cheered, high-fiving in congratulations.

"Whoo, we did it, Bessie!" shouted my dad. "Don't worry, I'll sneak you some tonight."

Bessie looked up, as if to acknowledge his proposal, before drooping back down so she could rest.

I leaned back on the couch, relishing in the victory I would soon be able to taste.

Later that night, with my belly full of tangy soup, I fell back onto my mattress and prepared to get some sleep. My dad had volunteered to take night watch, leaving me feeling rather safe and comfy as I rested by the warm light of an oil lamp. The soft chittering of crickets outside my window; the settling of the old shack into the irradiated Earth, the gentle swinging of my dad's rocking chair as he sat on the porch, hunting rifle in his lap…I dare say that I felt like a little girl again, if only for a short while.

I knew that this moment wouldn't, and couldn't, last forever. As lucky as I was to actually have loving parents in this wasteland, they would eventually age and die. The more I realized this growing up, the more I realized I had to cherish my parents while I still had them.

I buried my head into my straw-filled pillow, trying to regain the safety net that I had managed to temporarily create. While adulthood was indeed an irrevocable state, I did eventually manage to blank my mind of these depressing thoughts and slip away into the depths of sleep.

Little did I know that what was to occur that night would lead to the end of safety, the end of comfort. In a blink, I would be violently thrust into the gaping maw of the Commonwealth. I would get to witness firsthand the spectrum of humankind's capabilities, from its most benevolent kindness to its most depraved savagery. In just one night, my life would be pulled out from under me. And it was up to me to survive, to reclaim what had been taken from me and my family.

* * *

 **Welp, I suppose that's it for now. This story shall continue.**

 **Constructive criticism is welcomed, this is only my second story after all :P**


	2. In the Company of Raiders

I was awoken suddenly by the sound of Bessie barking furiously at something in the still night air. This was followed immediately by commotion on the front porch, including my dad shouting above the barking of Bessie to whoever was out there.

A couple of gunshots exploded simultaneously outside, followed by pained whimpering from Bessie and a thud on the front porch, before a flood of footsteps bounded up the porch and rushed into the house.

I stood up, heart pounding, reaching for the gun I always kept in my room in case of emergencies. Before I could draw the weapon and load it, two raiders came into my room and pushed me down, resulting in my head hitting the hardwood floor with a hard thwack.

The raider on top of me chuckled sadistically as he pulled my hands behind my back, securing my wrists with thick cords of rope.

Scared out of my wits and thrashing against my restraints, I called out to my mom and dad.

"Don't even bother, girl," leered the man on top of me. "All of y'all are gonna face Cutty tonight."

I heard the raiders drag my mother from my parents' bedroom, screaming and pushing against the men who held her. I called out to her once again, but was immediately hauled up to my feet by the two raiders.

It was then that I realized something: these men, the people ransacking our house and kidnapping us, were all very familiar faces to me. In fact, they were of the same gang that hung out at Bunker Hill and extorted my family for a share of our hard-earned profits.

One of the men smiled, seeing how confused I was.

"H-hey, I think she recognizes us," he laughed to his friend.

"Why the hell are you doing this?" I demanded. "We've paid our protection to Cutty, we're straight!"

"Nah nah, sweetheart. We're only straight when we fuckin' say you're straight..."

The raider grinned evilly before delivering a hard punch to my stomach. I cried out in pain, falling down face-first with my hands secured behind my back. My kidnappers laughed at my misery before dragging me out of the house.

Immediately I noticed a smear of blood on the porch, near where my dad had been sitting with his rifle. The pen where we kept our brahmin had been set alight, with the freshly-killed corpses of our livestock littering the smoldering haystacks. With the wind knocked out of me by the blow to my stomach, I could only weakly cry out and struggle against the two people holding me.

Out in the yard I saw the raiders gang up around my mom and dad, who both had sack hoods placed over their heads. My dad had a bloody patch on his left knee, most likely where the raiders had shot him to take him down. Both of my parents lay on the ground with their wrists tied as the assembled scumbags took turns beating and kicking them.

Seeing my parents groaning in agony, the raiders laughing as they pummeled their bodies, was enough of a catalyst to regain some of my strength and struggle some more. I managed to slip my elbow out of the grasp of one raider before driving my shoulder into the other man, sending him temporarily to the ground. Unfortunately though, there was only so much that I could do without the use of my arms, and was just as quickly hauled to my feet by the other raider.

I immediately sucked in a throatful of saliva, then spit it into the face of the man who held me. The loogie hit the man straight in his left eye, immediately erasing the smug smile.

He wiped the spit from his face and suckerpunched me, sending a stream of blood rocketing from my mouth. This was immediately followed by the man I had tackled kneeing me in the shin, sending me into the dirt.

"Fuckin' free spirit, ain't ya'?" he remarked. "Hey boys, lay off a second! Think we oughta teach this one a lesson!"

This managed to get the attention of the scumbags beating on my parents, who had since fallen unconscious. They placed an identical sack hood over my head before beating me in the same manner.

Underneath the suffocating blackness of the hood, I could not anticipate each hit, could not register anything other than the pain overwhelming my senses. They spat and cursed at me as I lay crumpled on the ground, completely defenseless. Come to think of it, that's just how raiders like to operate: picking on people that can't fight back. Why else would they resort to stealing from tiny settlements and wandering merchants instead of storming a Super Mutant or Gunner encampment? These cowards could only get their kicks from those who were weaker than them. Like me back then, spitting up blood as the raiders delivered kick after kick, punch after punch, laughing ecstatically each time I cried out in agony.

Before I completely lost consciousness, however, I could sense them laying off of me as my body stopped moving. Obviously they didn't want to kill me...Not yet, at least.

From what I'd heard, raiders loved to take prisoners. Sometimes they used them as slaves. Other times, they forced people to join their ranks under threat of death or torture. And other times, they simply kidnapped people for the hell of it, using them for sick entertainment in one of the many raider-exclusive clubs in the Commonwealth.

Whichever option these raiders chose for me and my family, it was going to be hell. For all of us.

I heard the sound of glass breaking, followed by an intense blast of heat. No doubt, they had set fire to our house, and were watching gleefully as it burned to the ground.

"Hey, let's watch these poor saps burn with the rest of their shitty-ass farm!" one of the men shouted.

"No dumbass, Cutty said 'capture and return'!" piped another voice. "I don't want the boss hangin' my balls up on her mantle."

I couldn't make out much more than that, as my ears had begun filling up with blood. I blacked out soon after as one of the raiders tossed me over their shoulder.

* * *

I awoke soon after, my head hurting like hell and my face tingling and swollen. The sack hood, at least, had been removed, allowing me to breathe, but my wrists were still secured behind my back, greatly restricting my movements.

My surroundings, meanwhile, were less-than-hospitable; light filtered into the dark cell I was in through rusted steel bars. Through the cage door, I could see what looked to be a small office, one which the bombs had failed to tarnish even two centuries later.

It became obvious as my eyes adjusted to the darkness that this was a jail before the Great War. This was affirmed by the human skeleton lying in the corner, one which the raiders hadn't bothered to clean up when they commandeered the building. The skeleton, unfortunately, still wore a pair of handcuffs around his left wrist, which attached him to a utility pipe close to the floor.

As sorry as I felt for this poor sap who bore a permanent skeletal grin, I bore much greater concern for my parents, who lie upon the cold concrete with their wrists bound in the same manner. My mother remained unconscious, while my dad panted heavily, eyes darting in fear around the prison cell. He soon came to notice me, freshly-awoken from my trauma-induced stupor.

"Lily..." he whispered, his voice choking in fear.

"Dad..."

I struggled to sit up without the use of my arms, but eventually managed to prop myself up on a far wall.

"What...do you know why they're doing this to us?"

"I dunno, Lily," he shook his head solemnly. "I...I was out on watch, and they just...came out from everywhere, every conceivable corner. I couldn't get 'em all, there was too many..."

He winced from the pain in his leg. Judging from the splatter of blood on his pants leg, the bullet seems to have hit him right above the knee.

I scooted closer out of concern.

"N-nah, I'm fine, hon. The bullet went in-and-out, it should be okay."

At that moment, my mom awoke, her hair falling in her face as she craned her head upwards to face my dad. Both of them sported a painful assortment of facial bruises, with blood still leaking from their busted lips.

As soon as my mom remembered what happened, she couldn't help but to start crying. Dad quickly moved to comfort her, placing his shoulder comfortingly on top of hers.

"Oh God...Logan..." she spoke in between sobs.

My dad could do nothing but issue quiet assurances to my mom as he allowed her to cry into his shoulder. I quickly traversed the floor to be with my parents, and they immediately included me in their arm-less embrace.

"Lily, honey..." my mom's tear-filled eyes turned to me.

Seeing my mom's identical green eyes so distraught, I could not help but to fill a flood of anguish rise up in my esophagus. I felt myself began to tear up along with her and my dad as we kneeled in a crude triangle on the cell floor.

I sniffed heavily as the tears came on; I couldn't wipe my face without the use of my arms.

"Mom...Listen, i-it's gonna be alright, okay? We're gonna get through this, all of us...I love you."

"We love you too, honey..."

My mom tried to say something else, but was completely overcome by sobs shortly thereafter My dad leaned in closer to console her, even though his eyes had since become moist.

"Your mom...she's right. We do love you...and we're gonna do all we can to keep you safe from...from what these raiders do to people...We'll take the brunt of all the abuse, everything, for as long as we can."

"No, dad," I objected. "We're all in this together. I can take my fair share too, if it means we can all get out of here together."

I sighed heavily, looking into my dad's steel-blue eyes.

"I'm not leaving here without you guys...I promise."

Bearing witness to the fiery stubbornness in my pupils, my dad looked down, shaking his head faintly.

"They'll kill us first, Lily...That's what raiders do to old folks like us. We ain't gonna be of much use to them for very long."

At the moment I was about to debate further, the door swung open, allowing two armor-clad raiders to enter our cell. Me and my parents stood up, my mom's face still dripping with tears.

The raider on the left, a female dressed in a spike-studded leather jacket, did not hesitate to chuckle at our misfortunes with an air of complete uncaring.

"Well, would you look at this," she sneered at us. "Two old farts and their darling daughter, who have somehow survived in the Commonwealth for this long? What a fucking load."

"Cutty..." my dad growled at her and her bodyguard.

"Logan," the raider addressed in a devilishly calm manner before stepping closer to us.

I glared up at the silver-mohawked, face-tattooed woman before me. She seemed to not even notice me, however, instead brushing back my dad's hair as my mom watched.

"Sorry to come knockin' on your door so soon, baby, but I'm afraid I've had to change up our routine a bit. I'm sure you won't mind."

"Why?" he demanded. "What the hell was wrong with us givin' you money?"

"Well, because times have changed, Logan," she mused. "It's...well, it's just not as easy to be a Raider anymore. Ever since the Minutemen reformed and that dipshit General of theirs started dispatching patrols. My guys have been dying, Logan. My bases have been stripped clean of parts and men, so...we've just decided to get into a different line of exchange. Unfortunately, Logan, that means you and your loving family are gonna be sold as slaves."

"Look, j-just name your price, alright?" my mom pleaded. "We'll pay up at a new rate, just don't do this!"

"Sorry, Charlotte, but I've already got a buyer for your daughter over there. Unfortunately though, no one's wanting to take you two yet."

The smug raider leader turned to look at me; I, of course, gave her my best death glare, which was unfortunately all I could do in my current position. If my hands were free though...

"Aw, what's with the long face, Lily? Surely you don't think I'd sell you to people who wouldn't take good care of you."

I said nothing; my eyes simply followed Cutty as she sauntered over to my side. She knew she was in complete dominance over us, and she did not waste the opportunity to stroke her own ego.

She squatted down next to me, feigning a friendly grin. Of course, the woman with the spiked jacket was about as friendly as a stingwing, and just as venomous.

I had met her only a few times before at Bunker Hill, and all those times she was demanding money from us and the proprietors of the market. By all accounts she was cold and ruthless, even by Commonwealth standards. Anyone she didn't like, she'd kill on the spot. Any settlement that refused her egregious demands for tribute payment were wiped off the map by her gang. Nothing was left of these sites but bodies and burnt-out husks of houses. This was probably what convinced most merchants and caravans to pay their dues to her.

"Y'know, I think you're gonna like it over there with Chancer. He's got a pretty sweet setup, completely underground...You don't mind doing a little diggin', do you hon?"

"Fuck you," I spat at her. "I'm not gonna be a slave, Cutty. Not for you, not for anyone."

"Aww. Well we'll just see about that..."

She tusseled my hair a bit before standing back up, calmly wiping some dirt from her knees. All that my parents could do was to look on anxiously.

"...Hey boys, I think this one's ready for you!" she shouted outside the cell.

I tensed up as I prepared to fight back, but not before the raider boss delivered a swift kick to my face, sending me onto the ground as footsteps flooded into the cell. Two raiders, a man and a woman, dragged me away by my elbows as my parents cried out helplessly. I kicked my legs in desperation, but the raiders dragged me swiftly through the building, my parents' voices fading in the dark corridors.

I shouted back to them, but was immediately shut up by one of the raider thugs, who promptly withdrew a syringe and stuck it into my neck. I could feel the mysterious chemical enter my bloodstream, where it immediately went to work in paralyzing my muscles.

"Don't worry, this'll help calm ya' down," the woman said in a mocking tone. "You're gonna need to save your energy, girlie, for the work you're gonna be doin'."

The two thugs cackled at my misfortune as they took me out of the police station. At that point, however, I was starting to fall unconscious. As my vision was gradually blurred by brilliant geometric shapes, I could make out none of the buildings or scenery around me.

Unable to think or to move, I eventually slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

 **Welp, after a longer delay than expected, this chapter is up. During this time, I've been busy moving to a whole new area of the country and getting a new job, so it's been quite eventful. But, I haven't forgotten about poor Lily. How's she gonna get out of this one? And what's gonna happen to her folks in the raiders' captivity? Tune in next time to find out, dear readers.**

 **Note: The chapters here are probably gonna be a bit shorter than those of my other story, mainly due to the straightforward nature of the narrative. Also, there'll be a lot less subplots and everything: I hope to have Lily's story wrapped up within 20 or 30 chapters or so...Maybe...Possibly. p_p**

 **Nonetheless, I'm thankful for you guys reading, and I will see you in the next chapter.**


	3. With A Little Help From My Friends

**Well, after a longer wait than anticipated, I finally had some time to write something unrelated to school. It was good to get back to Lily's story, even if just for a little bit.**

 **In this sort-of-longish chapter, Lily awakens from unconsciousness to find two of the Commonwealth's most familiar faces waiting on her. Together, will they stand a chance at rescuing her parents? Read on to find out, friends.**

 **Oh, and I'll definitely draw up a picture of Lily later (or at least create her in-game), but for right now, I have to return to the old college grind. So just sit back, reader, grab some popcorn, enjoy yourself, and enjoy this chapter that I've been thinking on for these past few months.**

* * *

I awoke slowly, with the sensation of thousands of needles stuck between the muscles and tendons of every joint in my body holding me down to the ground. I lay there, staring up at a partially caved-in ceiling above me, revealing the distant star clusters of the Milky Way winking faintly in the irradiated night sky.

The air was cold, yet I could feel the splashes of heat from a nearby fire, crackling just a few feet away as I lay motionless. I attempted to sit up, yet my muscles gave out underneath my weight, and I collapsed to the weather-worn carpet below me.

"Whoa, whoa," a voice halted from outside my field of vision. "They probably injected you with tranquilizer, so your muscles are still pretty weak. Take it slow for now."

Confused, I attempted to turn my head, which only resulted in more blistering pain from the base of my neck down into my spine. I groaned faintly, which signaled the stranger to scoot closer to me.

"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" the still-unseen voice laughed. "Guess that explains why those raiders had to tranquilize you...What's your name?"

I attempted to pronounce my name, but it came out as more of an inaudible breath of air that the stranger could not understand. He leaned closer, and as he did I managed to whisper my name.

"Lily?" he said. "Well it's nice to meet you...I'm General Nate, Commonwealth Minutemen. Me and my friend saw those raiders trying to put you on a pack brahmin, so we showed up and took 'em down. Afterwards, we took you into this old apartment building where we've been waiting for you to wake up. It's been...a couple hours now, I think? Must've been one hell of a drug they injected you with."

My eyes widened in surprise as my facial muscles started to tingle, being enervated back to life as the tranquilizer wore off. I heard the stranger take a swig of something in a glass bottle before he set it back down, sighing to break the silence of the room we were in.

Of course, I had heard about the Minutemen and their epic comeback from radio broadcasts. I had heard all about how they had retaken the Castle, their old base from before their ranks had splintered due to infighting and greed among its members. These aberrations in their ranks had culminated in the horrible massacre of settlers at Quincy earlier in the year by members of the Gunners. Since then, however, the Minutemen had returned with a vengeance. They had forged a brutal reputation for themselves by eliminating entire camps of raiders, always leaving no survivors. They had even stormed the Gunners' main headquarters and the ruins of Quincy, again killing every mercenary present. This had worked in splintering the Gunners' ranks and at least partially forced them to leave the Commonwealth.

My dad often told me of the days when the Minutemen were the heroes that everyone looked up to. In the year 2180, long before either me or my parents were born, they had helped to defend Diamond City from a horde of Super Mutants, gaining everyone's respect. This respect didn't last long, however, when everyone realized that these heroes were just like anyone else: driven by financial motives instead of a genuine desire to better humanity. This was the Minutemen that I had known. A few years back, their last leader (or 'General') had died, leaving the Minutemen to fragment into various sects. Some of these factions were no better than the raiders they fought, charging people in the Commonwealth for protection.

This new General, however, had led the Minutemen renaissance, forging the group into a single cohesive group that worked to keep settlers safe. So far, the group was doing quite well in this endeavor. They show no mercy, take no prisoners, and are always on the side of poor Commonwealth farmers, like me and my family once were.

But not anymore. As I lay there, the memory of the farm burning down became crystal-clear in my mind once again. Bessie was most likely dead. All our livestock too...The raiders would've taken the poor brahmin alive, but probably didn't want the trouble of raising cattle. Raiders never were ones to do common farm work, as much as benefit from the work of others.

Now though, my farm was gone. My dog was gone. My parents were alive, but...

My senses jolted to attention. My parents were still in the captivity of the raiders at the police station. General Nate had informed me I'd been out for a couple hours, they could still be there! I tried to get up once again out of urgency, this time managing to sit up on the dirty weathered carpet.

Nate looked at me, wholly surprised. I breathed heavily, this simple act nearly winding me because of the heaviness of my limbs.

I looked over at the General, who looked like something out of an old painting: atop his head sat a stately tricorn hat, and a dark blue overcoat was draped across his shoulders. Underneath was a white dress shirt, complete with a gentleman's collar, and a combat armor chest piece. What separated him from pictures of Revolutionary War heroes, though, were the ratty jeans and soiled boots he wore to accompany his otherwise-distinguished attire. Looking closer, his coat was riddled with bullet holes and frayed at the bottom, most likely from extensive use by its owner.

On top of that, he appeared much more human than the almost-divine light people always painted the Founding Fathers in. Poking out of his hat were several strands of black hair, which appeared as dirty and unkempt as that of a typical wastelander. He did, however, possess a strong jawline and a light bit of stubble across his face.

He smiled at me, adjusting his tricorn.

"Well look at you, recovering so quickly."

"M-mister..." I said out of urgency as my voice came back. The General stopped smiling. "We...we have to-"

I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind me. My neck still creaking, I turned around to the horrifying sight of two glowing eyes peering from the darkness. As the figure stepped into the moonlight, my terror only grew. The human-shaped entity possessed a face that appeared loosely molded onto a metal frame, exposing bits of wiring and circuits near its ears. For some reason, it wore a raggedy old coat and fedora hat and had a cigarette in its mouth, making it appear like something out of an old comic book.

No matter how strange this thing looked, its movements were still seamlessly human. The synth stepped closer to the General, who did not react to its presence.

"I, uh, finished securing the building," it said in a low Boston drawl. "We should be good to camp here for the night."

"Thanks, Nick."

"No problem...So, how's she doing?"

The synth looked at me, its unnatural appearance still sending shivers down my spine. In the middle of its eyes were not regular irises, but rather two glowing rings that encapsulated more faded white, in the absence of regular pupils.

I had to admit that I was terrified: I had never seen a synth up close before, let alone one as strange as this one. It looked like a creepy mashup of the combat robots formerly created by the Institute and the humanlike androids that the Commonwealth lived in fear of.

"Oh good, you're awake," it said with audible relief. "Those raiders did a hell of a number on you...I patched you up the best I could, but we should take you to Diamond City in the morning, let Doctor Sun take a look at you."

"Nick, this is Lily," informed the General. "...Listen, don't worry about him. He might look kinda freaky, but Nick is a very good friend of mine. He likes to help people."

"Yep. Metal private eye, at your service," he tipped his hat at me.

I took shallow breaths, clenching one of my fists now that blood flow had been fully restored to my arms.

Obviously, he was not going to hurt me or the General...And even if his circuits malfunctioned or the Institute flipped his kill switch, I was confident the General could take him down like he had countless other enemies.

But, not only did he and the General rescue me from those raiders, but he even patched up some of the wounds inflicted by the raiders.

Now was no time to dwell on that though. I sat up, my facilities since becoming more and more available for my body to use.

"Listen, um...thank you both for saving me," I stated. "...But we have to go back. My parents, they...they're still in there."

"Ah Christ, they took your family?" asked the General.

"Yeah...Th-they could still be there, we have to go back for them."

"Well, we found you in the middle of the street," said Nick. "Do you remember where they might be?"

"I...Th-they had us in a jail cell of some kind. So...maybe a police station?"

"Alright, well that's gotta be BADTFL," stated the General. "That's the only police station near here."

"Plus, it's common knowledge that the raiders have claimed that place," added Nick. "...Alright, Lily, we'll go over there and get 'em."

I smiled at him before attempting to stand up. Unfortunately though, my lumbar muscles were still pretty weak, preventing me from standing.

"Agh...help me up, please?"

They both complied, grabbing my hands and pulling me up on my feet. I groaned, wiping a smear of dirt from my jeans.

"Here Lily, you might need this."

The General laid a weapon into my hands, a gleaming 10mm pistol, along with several clips of ammunition.

I studied the weapon for a bit before loading it with one of the clips. I had to admit that it was a rather nice gun, compared to the pipe weapons that my parents owned.

"Uhm...thanks, General."

"Hey, call me Nate," he assured me. "Only my soldiers call me General...And uh, put on this armor, will ya'? I don't want you getting any more injuries."

The General reached into his pocket and handed me some leather armor pieces; he had most likely snagged them off the raiders he'd rescued me from.

I slipped on the armor, a leather chest piece along with a right leg and a left arm, over the clothes I wore. It wasn't a full set, nor was it nearly as elegant as the General's outfit, but it was protection enough.

The General then drew his weapon, a tricked-out combat rifle, from beneath his coat.

"You sure you're up for this?" Nick asked me as he loaded his submachine gun. "We can go in ourselves if need be."

"N-no, no, I'm good," I responded. "If we're getting my parents back, I'm going in with you."

"You ever been in combat before, Lily?" asked the General with a .308 round between his teeth, loading his rifle.

"Well, no...But I've shot tons of mole rats, bloatflies, even the occasional ghoul. I think I can handle it."

I resolved to display my tenacity with firearms by quickly loading one of the clips into my weapon and cocking it.

To my dismay, the General laughed at my attempt to look cool and collected.

"Look, shooting unarmed baddies is one thing, but guys with guns? Whole different ballgame. So you stay behind us when we go in, keep your head low. We'll take the brunt of their firepower, and you can cover us."

I began to interject, but elected to remain silent. As cocky as the General seemed at the moment, I knew he was right. I would get my ass handed to me if I, a sheltered farm girl, elected to charge headlong into a raider encampment.

As soon as we had all loaded up and prepared for battle, we headed out of the decrepit apartment, past an array of can chimes Nick had set up. The synth had even placed a few mines near the entrance, to obliterate any intruders that might try to creep into the campsite.

We made our way down the street, moonlight guiding the way down the otherwise-pitch black corridors. The General's coat swayed to and fro from a wind that funneled through the old blasted-out buildings, making him appear somewhat as a phantom from some long-lost past.

After a couple minutes of walking, we sighted a couple of lanterns in the distance, which illuminated two raiders hanging around the entrance to a fortified concrete building. The two looked rather bored, milling around as they guarded the police station.

Nick and the General immediately entered stealth mode to get to a good shooting position. I struggled to keep up, my joints still rather stiff. No sooner had I crept up to their position had they took out the two raiders with coordinated shots, leaving their brains imprinted on the wall behind them.

They continued in their stealthy approach up to the blue-painted front door of the former police station. The General looked behind temporarily, to make sure I was still following.

 _"Remember what I said, now,"_ he said in a hushed voice. _"We don't want your death on our conscience."_

 _"I know that, jeez!"_ I whisper-yelled back at him. _"...Let's just get my parents back, okay?"_

" _Alright...Nick, you know what to do._ "

Nick immediately stepped up and withdrew a frag grenade from beneath his coat. Without missing a beat, he creaked open the door just a tad before pulling the pin on the grenade and tossing it into the building. I heard a few confused shouts from inside the building before they were silenced by an earth-shattering boom from within.

"Alright, go, go!"

Nick and the General went inside, rifles pointed in front of them, while I followed behind with my tiny 10mm. Navigating through the demolished front lobby, I witnessed the smoldering bodies of two more raiders who had been obliterated by the grenade.

I heard a few more shouts from other rooms around us. A masked raider wielding a pool cue attempted to surprise us from behind a corner, but was just as quickly gunned down by my two companions. They advanced up to the entrance to an office-like area filled with filing cabinets, which was occupied by raiders who had clued onto our position. They immediately opened fire on us; Nick and the General took cover behind the doorframe, while I crouched behind a nearby desk.

A stray bullet whizzed by my ear and cracked the top of the desk, causing me to crouch down further. The environment was incredibly loud; my ears were ringing from the gunfire from both sides, my head spinning from the amount of gunsmoke and wood splinters flying through the air as bullets impacted the old office furniture.

My partners, meanwhile, remained undeterred. They bravely broke cover and headed into the room, which gave me enough space to move up to the doorframe. From this vantage point, I watched as the General withdrew a double-barrel shotgun from beneath his coat and killed enemies at close range. One raiders had the pipe pistol knocked from his hands by a gun bash before the General placed the shotgun beneath his chin, blowing his head into several chunks that went flying around the room.

I blinked in disbelief; as many ghouls and molerats I killed, I had never seen quite a display of gore in my life involving humans.

The General, despite receiving a fair amount of blood splatter on his clothes, was unaffected. He proceeded to the next chamber, where more raiders were encamped.

Despite the cacophony of gunfire around him, the General maintained a resolute composure. He continued with the double-barrel shotgun, making short work of any raiders he encountered. Eventually the room was cleared of raiders, but I could hear the rest of the gang encamped in the building scrambling around for their weapons and mobilizing to defend themselves from the attack.

"Hey Nick, mind activating that Protectron over there?" asked the General, pointing to a nearby terminal.

Next to the terminal, sitting dormant within a plexiglass charging pod, was a Protectron unit. I had never seen one activated before, so I was curious to see what it could do. Fortunately, Nick had cracked the code on the terminal in no time, and so the police-blue robot was ready immediately upon the arrival of another group of Raiders.

 _"Hold it right there, lawbreaker,"_ proclaimed the Protectron in its awkward staccato as it lumbered toward the Raiders.

The robot fired upon them with astonishing accuracy using a built-in laser gun. A gang member's head to smithereens with a well-placed burst of energy, causing his surrounding companions to scramble for better cover. Unfortunately for them, the General was there to deliver yet more carnage with his double-barrel shotgun. In just a few moments, all of the Raiders were dead thanks to covering fire from the Protectron unit, allowing us to proceed forward.

From this point, my surroundings began to feel much more familiar. In fact, as we proceeded into a hole in the wall that led to the next chamber, I remembered the dim lighting that the raiders had dragged me through. I could feel that we were getting close.

I heard a few raiders scurry down a flight of stairs to meet us as we emerged into the next room. I shot at them with my 10mm, hitting one of the raiders in the neck and killing him. The General and Nick took care of the rest.

"Hey Lily, you got one!" congratulated Nate. "Good job, kid."

"Thanks...I guess."

Disregarding for the moment that I had just killed someone for the first time, I looked around the room, immediately taking notice of the jail cell to my right. Inside, beneath the swinging light bulb that I recognized from earlier, were two faint blood trails on the ground.

My heart immediately sank into my chest as I realized that we were too late.

"So this is where they had you?" Nick asked me.

"Yeah, this is it..." I responded in a trembling voice. "I...I should've known they'd be dead...I-I just..."

The bloodstains on the linoleum floor only confirmed this notion. I could already feel my throat growing tight; hot tears began to sting my face as I realized they were gone.

Nick immediately took me by the shoulders with his metal arm as I struggled to restrain my sobs.

"Now hold on, we haven't found any bodies," he assured me. "They might've left some trace of where they've gone in the cell."

"I'm on it, Nick."

The General withdrew from one of his pockets a bobby pin and screwdriver, which he used to pick the rusty lock on the cell door. It swung open, and we all entered the dimly-lit area.

Seeing the two bloodstains in closer proximity, I began to cry even harder. The General took me comfortingly by the shoulders as Nick knelt down, inspecting the blood on the ground. He then went around the room, looking dismayed when he realized that no clue had been left to give us any more information.

"Agh, I'm sorry, kid. I really am," Nick said with a sigh. "Now fortunately, the bloodstains don't look consistent with murder. Plus, raiders tend to just leave corpses where they lay instead of taking the time to clean them up."

Nick nodded to the skeleton in the corner, the one I had seen earlier, still grinning from his permanent home in the jail cell.

I took a breath to calm myself, wiping some of the moisture from my face.

"So...you think they're still alive, Nick?"

"Well, they definitely left the police station in that state. And raiders transporting dead bodies isn't really consistent with their MO...But the bad news here is that we have no idea where they might've gone."

"I'll send word to my soldiers to look for raider caravans in the area," declared the General.

I looked down at the ground, trying not to spill any more tears. Sure my parents were alive for now according to Nick, but how long would Cutty's gang keep them? I knew that the average lifespan for a settler in Raider captivity was not good: a few days maybe, considering the agonizing physical torment they put them through.

Time was of the essence if I ever wanted to see my parents again. Unfortunately, the lack of tangible leads had led us to a dead end.

Nick mulled about for a minute, his circuits whirring audibly in the stillness of the jail cell. Even with his expressionless, molded-on face, I could tell he was in deep thought.

"Alright, well let's just head back up to camp for now and get some rest. In the morning, I can take you to my office in Diamond City. Soon as we regroup, gather some more information, I think we'll have a better chance of finding your folks."

"Diamond City?" I repeated. "W-well, let's head up there right now, Nick! We haven't got time to waste!"

"Look, you've been through a lot today. If we're gonna travel the Commonwealth at night, at least promise me you'll let Dr. Sun take a look at you once we get there."

I looked down shamefully at the cell floor; Nick was obviously concerned for my well-being, even though I was only concerned for my parents, who at the moment were probably being horribly tortured by the Raiders that had captured them. Even though I was incredibly tired and my wounds still caused me tremendous pain throughout my body, it was hard to look after my own needs when they were in such danger.

Above us, we suddenly heard the resounding bursts of laser fire from the Protectron once again, followed by grunts of pain from Raiders as they were hit by the red-hot projectiles. The three of us scrambled up a set of stairs and into yet another room, where we saw our faithful robot helper firing upon a group of raiders who were holed up behind desks and filing cabinets, possibly in an attempt to surprise us.

 _"Do not attempt to flee._ _Justice will be administered swiftly and fairly."_

"Yeah, you heard the man!" shouted the General as he withdrew his combat rifle and headshotted a nearby Raider. "Give it up, assholes!"

I withdrew my pistol and took cover behind a metal desk. My movements had since become slightly more bold, spurred by my success in killing a Raider earlier.

Nick sprayed the room with .45 caliber bullets, sending wooden fragments flying about the room and lodging some in the flesh of our attackers. The Protectron used their cries of pain as indicators of where it should shoot. A raider keeled over in pain was soon hit by multiple lasers and turned to a pile of steaming ash in front of my eyes.

I subconsciously gasped, not knowing that laser weapons could do that to a person. However, I tried my best to muffle my astonishment, as the General was crouched right next to me.

As much as I tried to shoot at the Raiders, I could not get a shot at them behind the metal edifices they were crouched behind. The General, having the same problem, withdrew what looked to be an ornate sword from beneath his trench coat. The weapon's blade glinted brilliantly under the dingy fluorescent lights, unnaturally so for a melee weapon that had probably seen extensive use from its owner.

Without a hint of reticence, the General vaulted over the table he had hidden behind and ran up to one of the Raiders. He swung the sword and brought it down upon the man's neck, cleanly separating his head from the rest of his body. The severed head rolled across the moldy carpet before coming to rest beside my foot, where I squeamishly moved away to avoid looking into the man's dead eyes and lolling tongue.

The next Raider to come upon the General was met with a blade stuck through his heart. He held the sword there for a few seconds, probably out of sadistic pleasure, before withdrawing it quickly, allowing the Raider to fall backwards to the floor spurting blood.

Finally, there was only one Raider left. This gang member ran up to the General with a switchblade knife, swinging wildly at the man who had killed his friends. Despite his attempts to block the attacks, the Raider still stabbed the General a few times in both arms. All other hits fortunately went into his armored chestpiece instead of into his abdomen.

Nick scrambled to get a good shot at the Raider, but just as he'd fired a few bullets in his direction the Raider lunged at the General, tackling him to the ground and loosening the sword from his grip. The Protectron, meanwhile, kept spouting about law and order while firing at a wall that the two men were hidden behind.

Me and Nick, avoiding the Protectron's haphazard volley of laser fire, ran over to see the General fighting with the Raider on the ground, bleeding heavily from multiple stab wounds that he had inflicted on him.

Taking careful aim with my pistol, and Nick with his submachine gun, we both fired, hitting the Raider multiple times and getting him off the General.

He sat up, surveying the scene before calmly dusting himself off and retrieving his sword. He hardly even seemed to notice the bleeding wounds on his arms and face.

"Damn, that guy was fast," he remarked as he pulled out a Stimpak, injecting it into one of his arms. The bleeding stopped almost immediately afterwards, although the stab wounds remained open.

"Wha...? How did you not even feel that?!" I protested.

"C'mon, Lily, I've been stabbed enough times it's like a shot to me. It's no big deal."

"Huh?...W-what's a shot?" I asked, confused by this statement.

"Nothing, just a little nuisance from my time," he said with a groan as he stood up, dusting off his jacket some more. "I'll tell you more about that later."

I was initially confused by this statement, but then I remembered another fact about the General: despite how young he looked, he was in fact over 200 years old, a relic of the horrible experiments perpetrated by Vault-Tec on unaware civilians shortly after the bombs fell. The vault he had escaped to had been outfitted with cryogenic pods, which the doctors had somehow convinced all the residents to enter so that they could freeze them in place indefinitely.

In the process, the General's wife had been unfrozen and killed by the infamous mercenary, Conrad Kellogg. His infant son had also been taken by Kellogg, who the General had just gotten revenge on a few weeks ago by killing him at his stronghold in Fort Hagen. I hadn't heard any more about the case since then, but I assume the General had been trying to balance his responsibilities as leader of the Minutemen while simultaneously searching for his son.

Even now, the General looked tired; he stretched his arms and gave a great yawn, scratching his beard afterwards.

"Look, I'll just catch up with you two in the morning, alright?" he grogged. "I'll pack up our camp and meet you at Nick's office, Lily...We'll get to the bottom of this, kid. Don't you worry."

"Thanks, Nate," I sighed. "...I really hope we can find them before it's too late."

I started wordlessly up the stairs, past the now-docile Protectron who silently patrolled the room full of the bodies of Raiders; the General and Nick followed close behind me.

It was at this moment that I realized just how hopeless of a situation I was in; I had no idea where Cutty's hideout was, or if she'd simply sold my parents to one of her goons. Who's to say they weren't dead already?

It was rather obvious that the odds were against me. But nonetheless, I couldn't just leave my parents to languish in the Raiders' captivity. I had to push on and find them. Or at least, find out their final fate for myself.

I was interrupted in my thoughts by Nick, whose skeletal steel hand tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey before we head out, we should check out the armory in the next room. Might hold some useful trinkets."

Nick pointed to the aforementioned room, a caged-in section of the police station that held an entire arsenal of weapons and a healthy supply of food and ammo. Why the Raiders hadn't taken advantage of this cache was beyond me, but regardless, I knew we had to get in there.

"Hey Nate, you want some of this?" Nick called out to the General.

"Nah, you two go ahead and load up. You just focus on keeping this one safe, Nick."

"I'll get her there in one piece," he promised.

The General gave a pleased nod before heading out the door, allowing Nick to rather easily pick the lock and open the cage door.

Inside, I picked up some notable loot, including a pristine box of Sugar Bombs. I ecstatically opened the box, taking a handful and chomping on them. I was rather hungry after the intense shootout I had returned from, so the sweet powdery flakes inside provided great nourishment.

Nick laughed slightly at my enthusiasm for the simple breakfast cereal.

"Well, it'd make sense that you'd be hungry. You've been through a lot today."

I nodded, swallowing the Sugar Bombs with a big gulp.

"It's not over yet...I've gotta find my folks, Nick. I can't stop until I do."

"And I'm gonna help you get to 'em," he assured me. "I've found lots of missing people over the years, Lily. From raiders kidnapping helpless farmers, to promiscuous wives running off to Goodneighbor, to kids venturing into a mole rat den. So believe me when I say that I've been around the block when it comes to disappearances."

I smiled faintly, nodding at the mechanical man in front of me. It was rather obvious by his detective-like speech and the General's appraisal of him that he was experienced and had a desire to help people, even though he himself was a synth. If anyone was gonna help me find my folks, it would be him.

Contemplating the events that lie in the future, I put the Sugar Bombs away and searched through a nearby steamer trunk. Inside, I found a god assortment of weapons and armor, most notably a standard-looking military combat rifle. Despite being over 200 years old, the gun had barely rusted inside its container. It also chambered .45 caliber rounds, which I knew did more damage than the standard .38 rounds that my pipe pistol fired. Luckily, the combat rifle's ammo was still sitting beside it in the trunk in a few pre-loaded magazines.

I readily took this weapon, slinging it over my shoulder by its built-on strap. Nick seemed to signal approval with his mechanical eyes, which appeared more and more human as I spent more time in his company. He seemed to take a liking to a .44 caliber pistol within the same trunk, which I let him have, as Ialready had my 10mm.

The trunk contained a few frag grenades and another armor piece, a steel-reinforced right arm.

There was one item, though, which took both me and Nick by surprise. Sitting innocently on a shelf next to the cage door was a peculiar-looking weapon, which looked like a miniature catapault with a large charging dock on top of it.

It wasn't until I saw the miniature nuke sitting next to it that I realized what this monstrosity was: a mechanical launcher for small nuclear bombs, which I'm sure were capable of causing concentrated devastation wherever it was fired.

Nick too seemed apprehensive at the sight of this weapon. He cleared his throat, shifting my attention away from the sight.

"Oh well, uh..." I began awkwardly. "I-I'd take that, but my pockets are already full."

"I dunno if it's just me, but I don't really trust a 200-year-old experimental weapon to fire a nuclear bomb as far away from me as possible...I'll take it for the General though, he might like it."

Nick stepped up to the weapon, hoisting the heavy nuclear weapon over his shoulder and loading the mini nuke into it.

"Well, we should get going...I'll lead the way there."

Nick stepped out of the cell, mini-nuke launcher in tow, while I followed with my new combat rifle that I hastily loaded one of the magazines into. Heading out of the police station, we headed southwest through an array of ruins toward the fabled Diamond City, a place that I had never before visited.

Traders often told me of how wonderful the city was, with its abundance of goods and its lack of rotting ghouls or dangerous synths. Most importantly, it was a place protected by a giant concrete wall that had been erected before the war, which had so far been successful in repulsing attacks by raiders and the like that would like to take Diamond City's resources for themselves. It seemed like heaven when compared to everywhere else in the Commonwealth, but nonetheless, I knew I couldn't stay long. My primary objective would be finding my parents with the help of the synth detective that I had met.

The creeping fingers of dawn had begun taking hold over the Commonwealth sky, slowly erasing the twinkling stars above and replacing them with daylight, which guided our way through the rotting concrete and towards our destination.


End file.
